


A Whale of a Tale

by DinerGuy



Category: Monk (TV), Psych
Genre: Crossover, Dale the Whale, Gen, Humor, Mystery, Psychphrancisco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 15:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15633969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: Dale J. Biederbeck III, aka Dale the Whale. Arrogant, brilliant, ruthless, owns half of San Francisco (with a controlling interest in the other half)... and also in jail for murder. Now he's called on Psychphrancisco to solve a case for him, but is it as simple as it seems? Or will Shawn and Gus wind up in more trouble than they bargained for?





	A Whale of a Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragonnan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonnan/gifts).



> This is going purely off of television series canon and ignoring the Monk novels entirely (and this won't matter to you unless you've read one particular one, but I know it exists so I feel like I gotta include this).
> 
> I also had a ton of fun working in references to Dale's various appearances in Monk as well as Tim Curry's role in Psych. I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do!
> 
> Also, standard disclaimers apply. I don't own any recognizable characters, situations, quotes, or names; this is all just for fun.
> 
> Thanks to Koohii Kappu, insert56, and PineappleHead from Psychfic for the beta jobs and helping me iron out the wrinkles!

"Dale J. Biederbeck the third."  
  
"What?" Juliet asked. She'd been on her way through the kitchen, headed back to work after a quick stop at home for lunch, but Shawn's words had stopped her in her tracks.  
  
Shawn waved the device at her. "Our newest potential client," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich.  
  
Having paused halfway to the door, Juliet now raised an eyebrow. "Um, as in, Dale the Whale?"  
  
"Now, Jules, it's not nice to call people names," Shawn chided jestingly.  
  
Juliet shook her head at her boyfriend's smirk. "That's his nickname, Shawn," she told him, fiddling with the keys in her hands. "People around the station know him by it, and I'm fairly certain Dale himself doesn't mind. Thinks it adds to his persona."  
  
"Wait, they all know him at the station?" Shawn frowned. "This guy is a hardened criminal or something?"  
  
"He's got quite the rap sheet," Juliet nodded. "You said he's your new client?" she asked. Her brow wrinkled in concern.  
  
Shrugging, Shawn chewed another bite as he nodded in reply. "Well," he said once he had swallowed, "he emailed us anyway. Wants us to come out to the jail to talk. It can't hurt, right?" he added, raising an eyebrow at Juliet.  
  
She shook her head. "From what I hear, Dale always has an underhanded scheme to benefit himself," she told them. "Nothing he does is without ulterior motive… so be careful, okay?"  
  
"Of course, Jules!" Shawn grinned. "And besides, I bet they're over-exaggerating. I'm sure he's not  _really_  a whale."

* * *

"He really  _is_  a whale," Shawn whispered to Gus.  
  
Eyes wide, Gus just nodded.  
  
The two friends were standing in Dale's jail cell, where a guard had escorted them when they'd arrived. Apparently, "Mr. Biederbeck can't come to the phone," was an acceptable excuse for Shawn and Gus to have to make their way to the man rather than waiting for him to come talk to them through bulletproof glass. At first, Shawn had wondered why, but now, he knew. Jules had been right.  
  
Tilting his head to study the man in front of them, Shawn leaned over to get closer to his friend's ear. "Gus, it's got to be a fat suit," he whispered conspiratorially.  
  
"Mhm," Gus hummed in agreement. "No one's that large for real," he added, raising an eyebrow at Shawn as if to underscore his point.  
  
Shawn coughed quietly. "Dude, poke it and tell me if it's real."  
  
"What?" Gus recoiled in horror at the suggestion. "I am  _not_  touching that! You poke him."  
  
"But Gus!" Shawn whined. "I'm always the one who pokes the body. Or licks it."  
  
Gus frowned at that. "I'm not asking you to lick him. Also, that is not a dead body," he clarified.  
  
"I can hear you boys," Dale called from his place across the room. He smiled. "And don't worry," the man continued in his British accent, "I assure you, this is completely and totally my natural body."  
  
Gus made a choking sound. "Nothing about this is natural," he clarified, taking a step back as Dale chuckled. Gus shot a look at Shawn as if to search for back up to his words.  
  
"Shall I prove it to you?" And then before either Shawn or Gus could respond, Dale moved a hand to the hem of his shirt.  
  
"Nooooo!!!" Shawn and Gus cried in unison, grabbing onto each other as if for moral support. Gus had his head buried in Shawn's shoulder, hiding his eyes from the unfolding sight.  
  
Shawn was watching in morbid curiosity, simultaneously fascinated and appalled by what he was seeing. "Okay, okay," he finally said, putting up a hand as Dale did not seem to be planning to stop any time soon.  
  
Thankfully, that did make the man pause and drop the portion of his shirt he had pinched between his fingers. He raised an eyebrow at Shawn. "Yes?" Dale prompted.  
  
Shawn took a deep breath. "Okay so you have our attention," he continued. "What is it you could possibly want from us? I mean, it doesn't seem like you get out much," he said as he glanced around the jail cell pointedly. "So what could you possibly know that you would want to talk to us  _today_?"  
  
"Oh," Dale chuckled. "You don't know? I know everything about everyone. Why, even from my prison cell, I couldn't help but keep up with the exploits of Shawn Spencer, psychic detective, and his talented partner, Burton Guster. Or should I say, Shawn Spenstar and Gus T.T. Showbiz? The extra T is for talent, right?" he added, directing the latter question at Gus.  
  
Gus gulped audibly next to Shawn, who squinted at the other man's words, but before either friend could say anything, Dale continued.  
  
"What is it you are calling yourself these days… Psychphransisco?" He laughed, a chortle that sounded as if it came from the very depths of his overweight belly. "You know, calling your detective agency 'Psych' is a very clever move. Telling everyone you're lying without  _actually_  telling them you're lying. To be honest, I wish I'd thought of it first." He smiled broadly.  
  
"But you're not a psychic," Shawn pointed out.  
  
Gus kicked him in the ankle.  
  
"Oh pish posh." Dale waved a hand dismissively. "That's all just semantics. I could have hired someone. Trust me, it's quite the easy market to get into. You don't even need a private detective's license."  
  
Gus kicked Shawn again, and this time, Shawn responded by kicking him back.  
  
If Dale noticed, he didn't say anything. Rather, he just shook his head and continued. "I sent for you since that  _other_  consultant refuses to return my calls any longer."  
  
Shawn frowned, but before he could respond, the other man smirked, "I mean, I don't exactly blame him. He holds a grudge against me, but it's rather easy to see why."  
  
"And why is that?" Shawn wanted to know. He crossed his arms and stared back at Dale. There was a part of him that still wanted to go over and poke the other man, regardless of what he had actually told Gus a few minutes before, but he restrained himself out of curiosity to hear what Dale was about to say.  
  
But Dale just shook his head and smiled smugly. "Ah ah ah. I don't think so. Why," he interrupted himself, "where are my manners? Do you boys want to sit down? We might be here a while depending on what questions you'll have about my case."  
  
Gus poked Shawn in the arm. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" He tilted his head toward the far side of the cell and then shot a meaningful look at Dale. Instead of waiting for Shawn to respond, he grabbed his shirtsleeve, then paused. "Excuse us," he said to Dale, then he jumped up and practically dragged his friend over to the corner.  
  
"What's wrong?" Shawn wanted to know.  
  
"Shh!" Gus hissed back. He kept his voice in a whisper and fixed a stern look on Shawn. "Dude, we are  _not_  taking this case," he said. "For one, where did this guy even find out about those nicknames? You only ever used them the once, back when we auditioned for  _American Duos._  That's some creepy level stalker stuff right there, Shawn! Secondly," he continued when Shawn opened his mouth to reply, "if Monk doesn't like this guy, then there's probably a very good reason. We can't just say, 'Oh well; we need the money, so let's just take this case and ignore everything this guy's been doing for years.'"  
  
Shawn snorted. "Please, Gus. Since when do we ever listen to more-experienced people? Did we ever listen to my dad?"  
  
"Uh, yes, we did. All the time. It's probably the main reason we're still alive."  
  
Shawn made a face. "Gus, don't be a soggy potato chip. This guy is willing to pay us for a consultation, so I think we should at least hear him out. Then we can collect that consultant's fee you're always going on about, and then we can go on our way and ignore all his calls. Or," he added, "who knows? It might be a case worth investigating!"  
  
"Fine," Gus sighed. "But if we end up dead or in trouble with the law because of whatever we end up doing with this guy, you're the one taking the fall, not me. Do you hear me? I will visit you in jail, but I will  _not_  be your cellmate."  
  
"I can still hear you boys!" Dale called from across the room. "Now are we going to talk or what? I can guarantee I will have my accountant wire you the money for your consulting fee after we finish, if that's what's concerning you, Burton."  
  
Shawn raised an eyebrow at Gus, who sighed heavily in response.  
  
"Fine," Gus huffed. "But only because we need the income."  
  
"Great!" Dale chirped. "Now, please, do come over so we can chat. I need your help, you know."  
  
Exchanging glances, Shawn and Gus slowly made their way closer to where Dale was leaning back on his bunk. Gus pointedly stayed behind Shawn as they went.  
  
"So… how can we help?" Shawn asked curiously. He was studying Dale in fascination, still surprised the secondhand information he'd gotten from Jules had been so accurate.  
  
Dale laced his fingers and settled his hands on top of his ample stomach. "Someone I very much care about has gone missing, and I need you to find him," he said simply. "It's been far too long since I last heard from him, and I'm starting to get worried."  
  
"How long has it been?" Shawn wanted to know.  
  
"Oh…" Dale trailed off and tilted his head in thought. "Probably a good week now. And none of my connections I've tried utilizing have turned up anything. Poor Xavier may be dead in a ditch somewhere; I don't know, and it's concerning me."  
  
With a slow nod, Shawn glanced at Gus and then back at Dale. "And have you asked the police for help?" he wanted to know. "I mean, I know  _you're_  in here, but I know this one detective who would—"  
  
"No." Dale shook his head. "I don't trust the police. They're useless."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say 'use—'"  
  
"I would." Dale cut him off. "Now let's see, I last saw Xavier on Thursday, when he came by to visit me. You can check the visitors log; it should all be there. He promised he'd be back Monday, but he never did return."  
  
Shawn tilted his head, then raised a hand to his temple. "I'm sensing this worries you?" At Dale's nod, Shawn closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I'm sensing—"  
  
"Spare me the theatrics," Dale interrupted. "Can you do it or not?"  
  
Blinking, Shawn glanced at Gus, who still looked unsure about the whole situation. Shawn turned back to Dale and grinned widely. "We'll take the case!"  
  
"Fantastic!" Dale smiled.  
  
Something in his expression made Shawn pause momentarily. There was something besides happiness in Dale's eyes… something Shawn couldn't quite put his finger on… Probably concern over Xavier's whereabouts, he decided. Nothing to worry about. This was a standard missing persons case. He and Gus would track down Xavier, collect their check, and move on to their next case.  
  
Everything would be fine.

* * *

Everything was not fine.  
  
"This is a hundred times worse than the Psych office when I was out of town for that week," Gus complained, wrinkling his nose. He glanced around the small living area of Xavier Park's apartment. Somehow, without a warrant or a badge of any sort, Shawn had managed to convince the building's superintendent the duo were on official police business. The older man had let them inside of Xavier's apartment to investigate further, but now Gus was starting to wonder how good of an idea it had been to go along with his friend's plan. He was  _fairly_  certain he couldn't catch any communicable diseases from just looking at something that was as much of a mess as Xavier's living quarters, but he had his doubts as he surveyed the disaster around him.  
  
"I don't think it's that bad," Shawn shrugged, pulling on a pair of gloves he'd retrieved from the glove box before heading inside the apartment building. "Besides, now we're one step closer to solving the mysterious disappearance of Mr. X."  
  
Lifting the pizza box off the top of a pile of magazines, Gus shook his head. "Mr. X?"  
  
"Well, I don't think he's a professor," Shawn replied absently. He wandered over to the kitchen and poked his head inside. "Dude, I don't think this guy's been home for at least a week, judging from the mold on this plate," he called back over his shoulder.  
  
Gus shuddered. "That is nasty, Shawn."  
  
"Well, it's not like I'm going to eat it!" Shawn shot back, ducking down to peer through the small window connecting it and the living room where Gus was still studying the mail on Xavier's coffee table. "I'm not  _that_  much of an animal, Gus. Give me a little credit."  
  
"Hmph," Gus sniffed. "You better know that's right," he muttered. A moment later, he sighed and glanced back toward the kitchen. "Shawn, I'm not seeing anything out of place here. Not other than his… less than impeccable habits, anyway."  
  
Shawn came back around the corner, having apparently satisfied his curiosity in the kitchen. "Isn't that a pig?"  
  
"What? Who? Xavier?" Gus asked, confused.  
  
Crossing the room, Shawn pulled open the drawers of a small desk piled high with unopened mail. "No, 'impeccable.'"  
  
"What's impeccable?"  
  
"That pig you were telling me about the other day."  
  
"A peccary?"  
  
"That's what I said."  
  
Gus huffed a sigh. "Shawn!"  
  
"Hey, look at this!" Shawn exclaimed, suddenly distracted. He turned around and waved a sheet of yellow paper at Gus.  
  
Sidestepping several discarded takeout containers, Gus picked his way over to the desk. "What is it?" he asked, reaching out for the paper Shawn was holding up. He skimmed the contents of the document, still creased from where it had been folded in three.  
  
"It's a lease!" Shawn didn't wait for Gus to finish reading. "For a storage unit! And not for Xavier either!"  
  
"Hm," Gus hummed in acknowledgment. He glanced at the billing information in the top left corner. "Who is this Adam Arkin guy?"  
  
Shawn shrugged. "Dunno. Come on! Let's go find out."  
  
But Gus wasn't quite as ready to bolt out the door as Shawn seemed to be. "What about the apartment? Shouldn't we search the rest?"  
  
That made Shawn pause for approximately two seconds, then he shook his head. "Nah, let's call Jules to come check this place out more thoroughly with her super police powers while we go check out the storage unit. The truth is out there, Gus. Don't you want to believe?"  
  
Gus still wasn't convinced. "Shouldn't we tell Juliet about the storage unit, too?"  
  
"It's not a police case yet, buddy. Don't you want to have Psychfrancisco solve this case all on its own?"  
  
Shawn was practically out the door at this point, so Gus headed after him. "But, Shawn, we're already calling her for…" he trailed off as his friend disappeared down the hallway.  
  
His only comfort as he carefully shut the door behind himself was Lassiter wasn't around to yell at them for wasting police resources.

* * *

 _"Shawn, this is a waste of police resources, and you know it!"_  Jules's voice came through the speaker. Shawn was holding his cell phone up between Gus and himself so they could both hear the detective's part of the conversation.  
  
"But, Jules," Shawn replied, his tone just the slightest bit wheedling, "I can clearly see Xavier's place in my mind, and I'm sensing nothing was awry or run amuck at all! Well, I mean, besides his lack of housekeeping skills," he added, exchanging a look with Gus.  
  
Juliet cleared her throat.  _"That may be, Shawn, but we found prints."_  
  
"Oh?" Shawn smirked. "Was he in a little red Corv…" He trailed off with a funny look on his face and looked over at Gus. "Wait. I feel like I've made this joke before. Are you having this vuja-de or is it just me?"  
  
"It's deja-vu, Shawn," Gus corrected.  
  
"Oh good!" Shawn looked relieved.  
  
_"Shawn!"_  Juliet exclaimed from the other end of the line.  _"This is serious. For one, this Xavier guy is a low-level criminal. He's been arrested on a few different charges over the years, including drug possession and purchasing a gun without a permit."_  She cleared her throat.  _"And another thing. We didn't just find Xavier's prints; we also found some belonging to a…"_  Shawn could hear rustling as if Juliet were digging for something in a stack of papers before she picked up where she'd left off,  _"to an Erik Carvello."_  
  
"Erik with a 'k' or a 'c'?" Shawn wanted to know.  
  
"What does that matter?" Gus asked, pulling to a stop at a red light and glancing over at his passenger.  
  
Shawn tilted his head. "Simple, Gus. Eric with a 'c'? Nice and friendly. Erik with a 'k'? Evil."  
  
_"What?"_  Juliet asked.  
  
At Shawn's explanation, Gus had frowned as well. "I didn't know that," he said now.  
  
"Everybody knows that!" Shawn scoffed.  
  
"Nobody knows that!" Gus retorted.  
  
Shawn shrugged. "I heard it somewhere," he said. "One of those shows on that station you always leave the TV on, Gus. What is it? Something sciency? Atom?"  
  
"That's a DC superhero," Gus corrected.  
  
_"Guys!"_  Juliet exclaimed. The phone call crackled slightly with static at her exclamation.  _"Can we focus? Please?"_  
  
"Right," Shawn blinked. "Do these prints give us any leverage in this case?"  
  
Gus just shook his head and flicked on his blinker before making a right turn onto a side street.  
  
Juliet sighed.  _"Yes. This Erik Carvello… 'Erik' with a 'k;' 'Carvello' with a 'c.' has quite the rap sheet."_  
  
Shawn stuck his tongue out at Gus, who responded by promptly returning the gesture.  
  
_"What's interesting though,"_  Juliet continued over the call,  _"is he's been a known associate of Dale's for the past fifteen years. Looks like he's been known to work as hired muscle for a few other career criminals as well."_  
  
"Wait, he works for Dale?" Gus asked. He slowed the car as he turned into the parking lot of a large yellow building housing STOR YOUR WAY Self Storage.  
  
_"Yes,"_  Juliet replied.  _"And we haven't tracked him down yet, so you two be careful. If Dale's sent him after this Xavier guy—"_  
  
"Wait," Shawn interrupted, a confused look on his face. "But Dale sent  _us_  to find Xavier."  
  
Gus frowned. Shawn had a point. What would Dale be doing sending someone who was basically a hitman after someone if he was worried about that someone's well-being? "Do we know for sure Dale sent him?"  
  
"Ohhh," Shawn was nodding now, "you might be right, Gus! What if Xavier's missing because someone  _else_  sent this evil Erik guy after him and Dale's trying to find him before it's too late?"  
  
Over the phone line, they could hear Juliet clearing her throat. Both men exchanged guilty glances as she spoke up in the pause after Shawn's question.  
  
_"Either way, Shawn, you need to find Xavier first—and keep an eye out for Carvello. Be careful, okay?"_  
  
"Got it," Shawn acknowledged. "We're here; I'll call you later, Jules!"  
  
_"You'd better,"_  she told him, then,  _"Love you. Bye."_  
  
Gus had a hand on the door handle and looked over at Shawn. "You better be right about this, Shawn," he warned, shaking his head. He climbed out of the car and looked around the parking lot as he shut the door. There were exactly three other cars in the parking lot, a small red one in the far corner that was probably an employee's car, a gray SUV near the entrance, and a blue truck parked a few rows away from the SUV. He'd pulled his own car up just beside the SUV. "Do we know what Xavier drives?" he asked Shawn.  
  
His friend nodded. "Blue truck," Shawn replied simply, jumping up from the parking lot onto the sidewalk outside of the business.  
  
As Shawn headed for the entrance, Gus hung back. Something about this situation was not sitting right with him. "Shawn, are you sure we should just go running in there? What if that Carvello guy is here already?"  
  
"Then we foil a hit and save Mr. X!" Shawn answered over his shoulder. "Besides," he continued, pausing to glance back at Gus, "we need that paycheck, remember? And Dale asked us to find this guy."  
  
"Yeah…" Gus trailed off and nodded. They did need the money. And although he still wasn't convinced, he reluctantly followed Shawn as his friend pulled the door open. He might as well stay close in case they needed to give statements to the cops later. "You're right."  
  
"Of course I am!" Shawn grinned. "Now come on, Gus! You won't regret this!"

* * *

Shawn was definitely starting to regret this.  
  
It was one of those feelings he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was there, and he'd dealt with hunches long enough to know something was… off. And besides, his dad had always told him not to discredit a gut feeling.  
  
He'd known it was Mr. X's truck in the parking lot easily enough. Mixed among the papers that had been on the desk at the apartment were several insurance statements for a vehicle matching the pickup's description. What he wasn't sure about so far was the gray SUV. With any luck, it would just belong to some random client of the storage facility and there would be no issue with finding the guy and getting him somewhere safe before Erik-with-a-K showed up. Unfortunately, he had a sinking feeling that things wouldn't be so easy.  
  
When they entered the building, it was dim and quiet. There was a small front desk, but no one was there and the computer on it was powered off. Shawn wasn't concerned, though; he'd noticed the hours sign on the door when they'd walked through; there was no one on duty on Saturday afternoons. Glancing over at Gus, Shawn made a face and tilted his head toward the doorway on the far side of the room. "Let's go; Mr. X's unit is number two-eleven."  
  
"Shawn, we are not going down a dimly lit hallway when there's a potential murderer on the loose!" Gus hissed.  
  
Shawn frowned. "Come on, Gus. You're the Scully to my Mulder. You gotta follow me in; that's how this works."  
  
"Did you really just make that comparison?" Gus sounded offended. "Because I always saw myself more as the Duchovny of our team."  
  
"But Gus," Shawn made a face, "I'm the one with the cool hair."  
  
"What does that matter?"  
  
Shrugging, Shawn changed the subject back to the problem at hand. "Besides, Gus, what will we tell Dale if we don't finish out this job? He trusted us; we can't let him down!"  
  
"He could have told us he was sending us after a crook!" Gus objected.  
  
Crossing his arms, Shawn turned from the door and leveled a look at his friend. "Gus, Dale is in prison. I'm pretty sure anybody he associates with is going to have some kind of record. Besides," he shrugged, "it's not like Mr. X is a murderer. He just has a few minor charges to his name."  
  
"Minor," Gus sniffed. "Let me hear you tell that to your dad."  
  
Shawn glanced around. "Well, he's not here, so I guess you'll have to wait."  
  
There was a  _clang_  from somewhere within the facility behind them just then, and both friends jumped.  
  
Recovering first, Shawn cleared his throat. "Come on. We did tell Dale we'd find this guy for him, and Jules did say evil Erik was probably coming after this guy. I don't want to be the one to tell Dale we let his friend get killed because we couldn't find him first, do you?"  
  
"Nope." Gus swallowed and shook his head. "Okay, fine. But I want to go on record as saying I am not happy about this."  
  
Shawn nodded. "Noted," he said, then he turned and pushed through the swinging door into the fluorescent-lit hallway lined with rolling metal doors.  
  
Each of the bright red doors came down from the ceiling, and all were shut tight. At least ninety percent were also padlocked with a varying assortment of combination and keyed locks. They were all numbered, with the ones nearest the door starting at 101. Shawn and Gus started forward, just another loud noise echoed down the hallway.  
  
The two friends froze.  
  
"I'm pretty sure that was a gunshot, Shawn!" Gus exclaimed.  
  
A second later, Shawn took off down the aisle between the storage units. "Come on, Gus!" he yelled.  
  
"I'm gonna kill you, Shawn!" Gus yelled back. From the sounds behind him, though, Shawn knew his friend was following close on his heels.  
  
Shawn took a careening turn around the far corner—  
  
—and collided with a short, thin man running in the opposite direction. Both of them went sprawling to the floor, tumbling a few feet. There were two nearly simultaneous hollow thunks as red doors on either side of the hallway stopped each of their forward momentum.  
  
"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, skidding slightly as he pulled up at the sudden accident in front of him.  
  
Sitting up from his spot on the floor, Shawn rubbed the back of his head. "Ow!"  
  
"Are you okay, sir?" Gus asked, approaching the other man. "We are really very sorry…" He trailed off as he caught the panicked look in the man's eyes.  
  
The man Shawn had so suddenly met was scrambling to his feet, his gaze darting back the way he had come as he adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses. "Please don't hurt me," he begged. "Please."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, hey there," Shawn had jumped up when he'd caught sight of the man's demeanor about the same time as Gus had, and now he grinned as he recognized the man they'd been trying to locate all day. "Xavier, right?"  
  
"How do you know my name?" If it were possible, Xavier looked even more worried now. His breathing was so fast Shawn wondered if he would pass out from hyperventilating.  
  
Shawn hoped that wouldn't happen. He wasn't sure he and Gus could get the guy to the car before whoever was shooting caught up to them. "Calm down. Breathe," he encouraged. "We're private detectives; a friend sent us to find you."  
  
At Shawn's words, Xavier visibly relaxed. But then the sound of footsteps thudding down the corridor met all of their ears, and Xavier's eyes widened again. "We gotta go!" he urged, pushing past Shawn and Gus to flee back toward the entrance.  
  
Shawn and Gus exchanged a shrug, then turned and ran after Xavier. They caught up to him just inside the lobby, and Shawn pushed open the door to the parking lot.  
  
"We're parked right here!" he exclaimed to Xavier, pointing at the Psych car. "Come on; hop in. We'll take you to our office; you can lie low there."  
  
Not waiting for another invitation, Xavier scrambled for the handle to the vehicle's back door.  
  
Gus frowned. "Uh, Shawn, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.  
  
"What's up, Gus?" Shawn was halfway to the passenger seat, and he looked back over at Gus. "We need to get going before that Erik guy shows up! We can hide him at Psychfrancisco; it'll be fine."  
  
Stepping off the curb, Gus stalked over to glare at Shawn across the top of the car. "Shawn, you are  _not_  letting a criminal use our workspace as a hideout from other criminals! This is serious, police-station-level stuff!"  
  
"Gus, relax. This will be just as simple as taking the guy to my dad's house, letting him insult your work car, and then letting him go commando under another man's robe," Shawn explained. "Except, of course, we're going to the office, not Dad's house."  
  
"This is nothing like that, Shawn!" Gus objected. "Besides," he added as an afterthought, "I'm fairly certain both your dad and Nigel St. Nigel thought that robe was serious business."  
  
Shawn made a face and shrugged. "Fair enough. Also," he added as an afterthought, "he did have a point; I liked calling your work car The Blueberry. Was a shame we had to get rid of it when we moved here."  
  
"Uh," Gus blinked, "they took it back when I resigned."  
  
"I've heard it both ways," Shawn shrugged.  
  
The sound of the storage center's door flying open caught both of their attention then, and the friends ducked inside the car as a very angry-looking blond guy charged outside. The man glanced around, catching sight of the trio in the vehicle in front of him.  
  
Shawn and Gus let out a pair of high-pitched screams as the new arrival pointed a black pistol right at the windshield, then Gus threw the car into reverse and slammed on the accelerator. Just as the man fired, Gus yanked on the wheel, and the bullet whizzed in front of the vehicle.  
  
Keeping the car in reverse, Gus put a hand on the back of the passenger seat and sped backward until he whipped a quick turn to face the car toward the exit out of the parking lot, at which point he braked hard and fast and shifted gears. Another shot sounded from behind them, but thankfully missed once again, then Gus floored it and the little car bounced onto the street and peeled away.  
  
Glancing in the side mirror, Shawn saw their assailant waving his arms and yelling as he grew smaller behind them. "Hurry, Gus! Before he follows us!" Shawn urged.  
  
"Who are you guys?" Xavier straightened up from where he had been crouching down on the backseat to try to avoid any direct line of fire through the windows.  
  
"I'm Shawn Spencer, psychic detective extraordinaire," Shawn told him, glancing back at the other man. "This is my partner Thunder McKing. And we just saved your life from that guy back there. You're welcome."  
  
Xavier only relaxed slightly. "Well, thanks. But, uh, how'd you know I was in trouble?"  
  
"Did you miss the part where I said I was psychic?" Shawn asked. Just then, the car took a screeching turn, and his head smacked against the headrest on his seat. "Gus! Slow down!" he exclaimed, grabbing onto the door handle. "I think we're far enough away now!"  
  
"Nuh-uh, Shawn!" Gus shot back, clenching the wheel and staring straight ahead. "I am putting as much distance between myself and that lunatic with a gun as I can!"  
  
They careened around another curve in the road, then a moment later, Gus took a second quick left turn. The road then opened up to a main highway, and Gus slowed down slightly once he'd merged into the rest of the traffic.  
  
"Did we lose him?" Gus wanted to know.  
  
Xavier and Shawn both turned to look through the back windshield at the same time.  
  
"Um, Gus, I don't think he ever got close to following us," Shawn told his friend, glancing back to Gus. "He didn't seem to be thinking past shooting at our car."  
  
"Hmph," Gus sniffed in disagreement. "You say that, but you only have my excellent driving to thank for having escaped being murdered just now."  
  
Shawn made a face but didn't respond. Instead, he turned around to look at their passenger. "Okay, so you're Xavier Park, right?"  
  
The other man nodded.  
  
"So who's Adam Arkin?" Shawn wanted to know. "And why do you have a contract for a storage unit under that name?"  
  
Xavier wrinkled his nose. "It's… an alias. Dale knows everyone and everything that goes on around here, even from jail," he explained quickly. "I figured using fake names wasn't the worst idea. Call it self-preservation, I guess."  
  
"Ah," Shawn nodded. "And do you have any other aliases?" When Xavier arched an eyebrow at the question, Shawn made a face. "Just covering all our bases, man," he explained. "Got to make sure I can be keeping my psychic eye on anything important, in case more trouble shows up looking for you."  
  
"Umm… I mean, I mainly use Adam Arkin," Xavier shrugged. "But I've also used Ray Porter a few times, as well."  
  
Shawn frowned, then reached for the door handle again himself as Gus took another racing turn. "Why do you feel the need to hide your identity from Dale anyway?" he asked. Then a thought occurred to him, and he put his left hand to his temple, keeping his right braced against the door. "Ohhh, I'm sensing you have much more to you than meets the eye! What happened? Did you accidentally get mixed up in some big, underhanded scheme of Dale's and now you can't get out?"  
  
The car took another sudden turn, and Xavier slid sideways against his seatbelt. Recovering his balance, he sighed heavily. "Yeah," he said slowly. "That's about the long and short of it. I  _thought_  I had landed a great bookkeeping job for a local business. Come to find out, it was a front for one of Dale's many… less than legal endeavors?"  
  
"Money laundering?" Shawn asked. When Xavier gave him a surprised look, Shawn just tapped his temple. "Psychic, remember?"  
  
Xavier nodded in acknowledgment. "Anyway, when I realized what the business really was, I quit, but apparently you can't quit something like that."  
  
That made Shawn pause. The look he exchanged with Gus told him his friend was thinking the same thing. "Wait," Shawn said, "but Dale told us he was worried about your well-being. He hired us to make sure you're okay."  
  
Gus made a face. "Obviously he was lying, Shawn," he replied.  
  
From the back seat, Xavier nodded frantically. "Yeah, no, don't trust that guy. Dale's all about what he can get, and if you cross him, he's not too understanding."  
  
Shawn and Gus exchanged glances at that.  
  
Sighing, Gus took a right turn onto a side street. "Didn't you say Juliet warned you Dale was underhanded and sneaky?" he asked Shawn.  
  
"True; she did," Shawn acknowledged, "but lying about being worried someone is dead just so you can kill them is totally not fair."  
  
"I'm pretty sure Dale doesn't care about fair," Xavier offered.  
  
Shawn glanced in the rearview mirror, then at Gus, and grinned. "Well, let's call him and find out how he explains himself," he grinned. "This is gonna be good!"

* * *

 _"This had better be good, Mr. Spencer. Do you know how hard it was for me to come to the phone?"_  Dale's voice was hoarse over the line. It sounded as if he had done an hour of intensive cardio just before picking up the phone.  
  
Gus glanced over at Shawn to see his friend rolling his eyes. Once the three men had gotten back to the Psychfrancisco office, Xavier had excused himself to use the bathroom. Shawn and Gus had headed for their desks, where Shawn had dialed the prison to talk to Dale. Shawn had told the operator he was Dale's lawyer, looking into a potential appeal. Gus was honestly surprised it had worked, but it hadn't taken very long before their call had been connected to Dale. Now, Shawn's cell phone was on speaker, resting on the edge of his desk nearest to Gus.  
  
"I'm sensing you weren't completely honest with us when we were there to see you earlier," Shawn directed the comment at the device.  
  
_"Please, Mr. Spencer. We both know very well you aren't really gifted,"_  Dale chuckled.  
  
"I find your lack of belief disturbing," Shawn retorted. He shot a glance at Gus. “Dude,” he whispered, "It's like Nigel St. Nigel gained 500 pounds and got himself arrested."   
  
Gus sighed but kept quiet, curious to see how this conversation was going to play out.  
  
_"Well, do you have something to talk to me about or not?"_  Dale demanded.  
  
"Why did you really ask us to find this Xavier guy?" Shawn wanted to know.  
  
_"I really don't think that has any bearing on you finishing the job I hired you to do,"_  was all Dale said in reply.  
  
Exchanging a look with Gus, Shawn covered the phone's mic and whispered, "Dude, watch this." Then he moved his hand and returned his voice to a normal volume. "I'm not risking my life any more without a good reason. Now, tell me what you want with Mr. X, or Gus and I quit."  
  
There was silence over the line for a good ten seconds after the threat, and Gus was about to say something when Shawn cleared his throat.  
  
"All right. Well, talk to you never." Shawn winked at Gus, who rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.  
  
_"Okay, okay!"_  Dale exclaimed quickly, as if trying to keep Shawn from hanging up.  
  
Shawn nodded at Gus knowingly as Dale continued.  
  
_"I will admit I have not been… completely forthcoming in all of our encounters,"_  the man sighed.  
  
"You don't say," Gus muttered.  
  
Either Dale hadn't heard the comment or he was just ignoring it, because he did not acknowledge Gus's words.  _"I really asked you to find the man because he's trying to kill me."_  
  
Whatever Gus had been expecting to hear, that was not it. He blinked. "Wait, what?"  
  
Dale sounded unimpressed at the reaction.  _"You heard me. My life is in danger!"_  
  
"From a diminutive accountant who's scared of his own shadow?" Gus clarified.  
  
_"Mr. Guster, of all of the lessons you must have learned in your time as a private detective, haven't you ever learned not to judge a book by its cover?"_  Dale asked. He didn't give Gus time to respond, though.  _"Do not underestimate Xavier's capabilities. That is why I need you to find him, before he finds a way to get to me."_  
  
With a sigh, Shawn shrugged. "Okay, fine. I'll give you that this X guy might not be who he says he is. But I can't just take him to the cops and insist they arrest him because you're afraid he's going to come after you. What about a restraining order?" he suggested.  
  
_"Do you really think that is going to stop a man bent on my destruction?"_  Dale exclaimed dramatically.  _"You must find him and stop him, Mr. Spencer. That is why I really hired you. Stop him before it's too late for me."_  
  
Gus raised an eyebrow.  
  
"We'll let you know," Shawn chirped. "Thanks, Dale. Catch you later," he said, ending the call before Dale could continue the conversation any further. He turned to Gus and made a face. "Well, that was interesting."  
  
"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Gus asked.  
  
Shrugging, Shawn reached for the bag of chips on his desk. "Come on, Gus. Who would want to kill Dale?"  
  
"Um, is that a trick question?" Gus snorted. "Dale's a monster; the list of suspects can be narrowed down to everybody. Even  _I_  kind of want to kill him."  
  
"You said that about the other guy who looked like him, too," Shawn tsked. "Careful, Gus; somebody's going to think you're biased."  
  
The things Shawn said sometimes. "Biased against what?"  
  
"Guys who look like him," Shawn answered matter-of-factly.  
  
Gus rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you're the only one who thinks that."  
  
As he started to shoot back a retort, Shawn suddenly trailed off and glanced around the room. "Um, Gus? Where's Mr. X?"  
  
"What?" Gus looked around the room himself. "What do you mean… didn't he go to the bathroom?" he remembered.  
  
Silence followed Gus's question.  
  
Both friends slowly turned to look at each other, eyes wide, then Shawn leaped up and ran over to the still-closed bathroom door. It was locked, but he scrambled to grab the spare key on top of the doorframe. He turned back to grin at Gus.  
  
"This is either going to be really awkward or it's gonna be the biggest plot twist ever!" he declared, then he pushed the door open and stepped inside the small, tiled room. A second later, he popped back out. "Gus! The window! He snuck out while we were on the phone with Dale!"  
  
"What?" Gus exclaimed. "Why would he do that?"  
  
Shawn turned to look over his shoulder, then returned his attention to his friend. His eyes were dancing with the realization of the newest update to their case. "Gus, Dale must have been telling the truth!" he exclaimed excitedly.  
  
Frowning, Gus tilted his head. "All we have is an empty bathroom, not a signed confession. There are dozens of reasons besides automatically assuming Dale is right."  
  
"Why else would he run, Gus?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe because he's scared for his life, and we're in here talking to the guy who hired us to find him?" Gus rolled his eyes. "He was probably convinced we were going to take him to Dale when he realized that's who we were calling."  
  
Tilting his head in thought, Shawn made a face. "But, Gus—"  
  
"No, Shawn," Gus resisted. "Until two minutes ago, you were certain Dale was evil and Xavier was the victim."  
  
"Fair," Shawn admitted. "Either way, though, we need to find him."  
  
Gus frowned. "Shawn, we don't know what this guy's story is, and you want to go chasing him all over San Francisco?" He shook his head. "I don't know about you, but my sense of self-preservation is very much intact, thank you."  
  
"You sure about that?" Shawn smirked. He started for the door, then stopped in his tracks. Several of the things he'd seen in Xavier's apartment were starting to click together, and his eyes widened as he whirled to face his friend. "Gus! Mr. X didn't just quit! He took the skimmed money with him!"  
  
"What?" Gus sounded extremely confused.  
  
"Now, now, now. Look who's so smart," a voice purred from behind the friends. Xavier stalked around the corner, a gun aimed directly at them.  
  
"Wait. Weren't you just in the bathroom?" Shawn asked, raising a hand as if to ask a question in school.  
  
Xavier shrugged. "Easy enough to hop out the window and come back around," he explained. "It's a second story, but there are enough holds on the wall."  
  
"Dude, he's a real-life Spiderman!" Shawn exclaimed to Gus.  
  
This was not good, Gus thought. Leave it to Shawn to disregard any danger facing him. But before he could say anything, Xavier growled.  
  
"Would you  _shut_  up?" His yell was enough to draw the friends' attention back to the very present threat of the semiautomatic pistol aimed their way.  
  
"Okay, you got our attention," Shawn replied. He took a small step forward and raised his hands to either side. "Now what? What do you want? A medal from the bad guy's hall of fame for an outstanding performance in trickery?"  
  
"Hm, not quite," Xavier answered. He smiled coldly. "I do have something I need from you though."  
  
Shawn crossed his arms. "And what makes you think you'll get anything from us?"  
  
Why did Shawn always insist on pushing bad guys' buttons? Gus cleared his throat. "Uh, he does have a gun, Shawn," he whispered.  
  
"That's right," Xavier chuckled. "And as the guy in the room with the gun, I'm also the guy in the room who gets to give the orders." He waved his pistol at Shawn and Gus to underscore his point.  
  
"And what orders are those?" Shawn pressed.  
  
Gus sighed. He knew there was a part of Shawn that needed to know the why to everything, and he also knew that the pieces would be falling into place in Shawn's mind right now. Even as Shawn asked the question, he was most likely realizing the answer to it.  
  
And sure enough, Shawn gasped just as Xavier started to reply. "You want me to kill Dale?"  
  
"What?" Gus blinked.  
  
Xavier had paused in his reply, and now he smirked at the other two men. "Well, looks like the psychic got another one  _almost_  right," he said smugly.  
  
"'Almost'?" Shawn repeated indignantly. "Either way, though, pal, you have a problem here." Shawn was eyeing the gun in the man's hand as he spoke. "Because I'm not about to commit any crimes for you, much less murder."  
  
Gus nodded. "I know I said I kind of want to kill him earlier, but I wasn't serious," he quickly explained. When Xavier gave him a confused look, Gus sighed. "Right. You hadn't heard that," he added nervously.  
  
"Well," Xavier continued, giving Gus an odd look as he did, "I should amend my last statement. I don't want  _you_  to kill him, Psychic."  
  
Shawn and Gus exchanged glances.  
  
"You don't?" Shawn asked.  
  
Gus cleared his throat. "And  _I'm_  certainly not going to."  
  
Xavier chuckled now. "You either, Gus. I want the satisfaction of doing it myself."  
  
"He  _is_  in jail, you know. You can't just ambush him walking down the street next week," Shawn pointed out.  
  
"Oh, trust me, I know. Which is why I'm going to take him out  _in_  jail," Xavier replied simply.  
  
"Somehow, I think that's going to be harder than you'd expect," Shawn offered. "The second you leave for the jail, we'll just call up and tell them you're on your way. They'll stop you before you get through security at the prison—much less to Dale."  
  
Gus glared at Shawn. "Way to go," he hissed. "Now he's going to kill us to before he goes take out Dale."  
  
Before Shawn could reply, their captor shook his head and clicked his tongue. "So dramatic," he said. "I'm not going to kill either of you—yet," he added. "I need you to get me in to see Dale first. Then… then we'll talk about the rest."  
  
"Wait… Gus, I'm getting something!" Shawn said. He ignored the looks Gus and Xavier were sending his way as he squeezed his eyes shut and put both hands to his temples. "I'm sensing… you are a dirty, rotten double-crosser!" Shawn suddenly exclaimed, popping his eyes open and pointing with his right hand at Xavier.  
  
The sudden movement and exclamation made the other man jump slightly. "Don't do that!" he yelled, tightening his grip on the gun.  
  
Gus shot Shawn a look—which, unfortunately, his friend did not seem to take to heart.  
  
"Wait!" Shawn exclaimed, causing Xavier to jump again.  
  
Xavier growled. "I  _told_  you—"  
  
"You're a liar liar pants-on-fire!" Shawn continued ignoring the man's reminder. "You weren't really running from Erik-with-a-K at the storage place!"  
  
"What?" Gus and Xavier both said at the same time.  
  
Shawn noticed, though, that his friend sounded more shocked while Xavier sounded surprised that Shawn had figured it out. "Yes! I mean, no! I mean… Gus, do I mean yes or no?"  
  
But Gus was still stuck on the revelation Shawn had thrown out. "Shawn, what do you mean he wasn't running from Carvello?" Gus demanded. "There were gunshots! He shot at our car!"  
  
Shaking his head, Shawn replied, "But he wasn't  _trying_  to hit us. Isn't that right, Xavier?" he asked.  
  
Just then, the tinny sound of Frank Sinatra's singing echoed through the room.  _"L is for the way you look at me…"_  
  
Gus gulped. That was the ringtone Shawn used for Juliet. This was either going to be very good or very bad.  
  
_"O is for the only one I see…"_  
  
Xavier's gaze darted over to Shawn, and he clenched the pistol tighter. "What is that?"  
  
_"V is very, very extraordinary…"_  
  
"Um, my phone?" Shawn replied.  
  
_"E is even more than anyone that you adore…"_  
  
The man frowned. "Phones out. On the desk. Now!" he ordered.  
  
Shawn and Gus exchanged looks, then did as they were told. The ringtone on Shawn's phone started over as he deposited it on the flat top of the des, but fell silent a moment later.  
  
"Now," Xavier began again—  
  
_"L is for the way you look at me. O is for the only one I see…"_  
  
"Who keeps calling you?" he yelled angrily.  
  
_"V is very, very extraordinary…"_  
  
Making a face, Shawn shrugged. "Apparently, my girlfriend is trying to reach me."  
  
_"E is even more than anyone that you adore…"_  
  
The three of them stared at the phone as it fell silent, then Xavier turned back to the two friends. "As I was saying—"  
  
_"L is for the way you look at me…"_  
  
Xavier's face grew red, and he turned for the phone.  
  
"Wait!" Shawn yelled, stopping the man in his tracks. The song continued playing behind him as he stumbled over his words. "Before you smash anything, hang on a second! I told you that's my girlfriend."  
  
Unimpressed, Xavier rolled his eyes. "And? Good for you."  
  
"Wait!" Shawn said again.  
  
Gus just hoped his friend had a plan, because this could end very badly.  
  
"Look, dude," Shawn explained as the ringtone faded away once again, "she's obviously trying to reach me. If I don't answer, she's going to keep calling, and if you smash the phone and it starts going right to voicemail, she'll really get worried."  
  
Xavier raised an eyebrow. "I don't care."  
  
"If she gets worried, she's going to call in the cavalry," Shawn persisted. "And since I'm a police consultant, they're going to take my disappearance way more seriously and probably start tracking me down. Do you want your carefully crafted plan to fail because you wouldn't let me answer the phone?"  
  
In the long moment as Xavier regarded Shawn, the phone started ringing yet again. Xavier glanced over at it, then nodded with a sigh. He gestured at the phone with his gun. "Fine. Hurry up, but put it on speaker—and don't try anything!" he added.  
  
"Relax; all good," Shawn said, scrambling for the phone on the desk.  
  
Shawn snatched the device up and answered the call. "Hey, Jules!" he greeted.  
  
Xavier motioned with the gun, prompting Shawn to hit the speaker button and hold the phone up toward the other man. Gus swallowed nervously as he watched Xavier's face.  
  
_"Shawn! Where have you been?"_  Juliet exclaimed.  
  
"Relax, Jules! No need to report me missing or anything yet," Shawn quickly covered.  
  
She still sounded worried as she continued,  _"Why didn't you answer your phone? I was getting worried."_  
  
"Ah, um, Gus and I were… busy. With a client," Shawn explained. "Remember that case with Drimmer?"  
  
_"Yes…"_  she replied slowly.  _"But what does that have to do with you not answering your phone?"_  
  
Gus was nervously watching Xavier as he eyed Shawn carefully.  
  
_'Hurry it up,'_  the man mouthed.  
  
Shawn nodded and made a face. "Hey, Jules, I gotta go, okay? Just don't forget to follow through on that case, all right? I gotta run an errand, but Gus will be here later on for you to check in."  
  
_"Okay… right."_  From Juliet's tone, she seemed to have caught onto the clues Shawn was trying to leave her.  _"See you later, Shawn. I love you."_  
  
"Love you back!" Shawn returned. Ending the call, he set the phone back on the desk and then backed up a few steps when Xavier waved the gun at him. "There. Happy?"  
  
"Very," the man smirked in reply.  
  
Gus cleared his throat. "Wait. I have a question," he said when the others turned to look at him. He was pretty sure he'd followed most of Shawn's reasoning about the case up to this point, but there were a few dots that hadn't quite connected for him yet. "So you," he nodded at Xavier, "and Carvello are working together?"  
  
"Yep," Shawn nodded. "They were skimming money from Dale." He raised an eyebrow at Xavier as he continued, "and I'm sensing you figured you could get away with it because he's in jail and you worked at it over time."  
  
The man didn't nod, but he didn't deny it either.  
  
"Ohhh," Gus acknowledged. "And then, when they took off, Dale finally noticed?"  
  
Still nodding, Shawn turned to Xavier again. "You weren't counting on him coming to us so quickly, did you?"  
  
Xavier shrugged. "Dale isn't as well connected as he used to be. He's called in most of his favors at this point, and I was planning to just drop off the map completely. You know, I'd almost be mad you found me if it hadn't opened up a perfect opportunity to get rid of the threat that is Dale Biederbeck." Xavier grinned. "When we saw you boys in the parking lot at the storage center, where we were gathering a few last things, we decided to use you to get to Dale. Of course," he shot Gus a look, "you are a surprisingly good getaway driver."  
  
Gus couldn't help smiling at the compliment, regardless of who was giving it to him or his current situation.  
  
"So we had to bide our time just a little," Xavier finished. "But now we can disappear with the rest of his fortune and no one to stop us. We just have to wrap up the loose end that is Dale Biederbeck."  
  
"Nope," Shawn shook his head emphatically. "No can do. And you can't make me."  
  
Channeling his darkest look, Gus glared at his friend.  
  
"Dude, harsh!" Shawn complained. "You haven't looked that angry since that time I ate all of the leftover pie and accidentally recorded over  _American Duos_  on the TiVo!"  
  
"Hey!" Xavier shouted.  
  
"Well, he can't make you, but I can," came a new voice.  
  
Gus and Shawn whirled around to see Carvello strolling in the door. The taller man was holding his own weapon, which was pointed directly at them.  
  
"I'll keep your friend here company, and you'll introduce Xavier as your new assistant when you go reinterview Dale." He grinned. "Easy, right?"

* * *

"You know this is going to be anything but easy, right?" Shawn whispered as Xavier nudged him forward down the hall of the jail. They were following behind a guard who was leading them to Dale's cell. It had actually been much easier than he had expected to lie his way into the prison with Xavier, but Shawn wasn't about to admit it to the other man.  
  
While Xavier had no weapon in his hands, the threat of Gus's safety was keeping Shawn on his—mostly—best behavior. He just had to hold out until Jules came to the rescue… hopefully that would be before they got to Dale. Shawn wasn't quite sure how he would stall once that happened.  
  
"I don't know; it's seemed pretty easy so far," Xavier whispered back.  
  
They were at the jail cell now, and the guard nodded to them both as he unlocked the door. "Five minutes," he offered, then turned to leave.  
  
Dale was on the far side of the cell, engrossed in a book in his hands, and he looked up when the sound of the door lock being undone met his ears. He stared in shock—an expression that Shawn got the impression the man didn't often display—and his mouth opened and closed quickly as he tried to formulate words.  
  
Shawn made a face. "You know, security in this place is not what I'm used to. Guess if you have enough privilege, you can get anything even in prison!"  
  
"You!" Dale finally gasped, directing the exclamation at Xavier. Then he looked at Shawn. "I'm disappointed, Mr. Spencer! You of all people should have been able to deduce that I would not want this man here!"  
  
Frowning, Shawn tilted his head. "You did tell me he was your friend who's been missing though… Was that not the case?"  
  
Dale grunted, maneuvering his wheelchair back a few paces away from the two men visiting his cell. "I seem to distinctly recall telling you he wants to kill me, and yet you bring him here?"  
  
"Did you?" Shawn frowned. "I remember hearing something like that, but I felt like you didn't actually mean the words. Maybe we can all just hug it out?" He glanced down the hall outside of the cell. Since Dale wasn't a flight risk, the guard had left the door unlocked, and Shawn knew Xavier had limited options for taking care of Dale. If Shawn had timed everything right, then help should be coming right… about…  
  
But then Xavier lunged for Dale, pulling a sharp plastic object from his pocket as he went. Shawn hadn't seen that coming. How Xavier had managed to hide it from the pat down before they went back to the cells, Shawn didn't know. But now he had no choice but to leap into action, which he did with much panache, if he did say so himself.  
  
What happened next was a bit of a blur, between Xavier's yell, Dale's scream, and Shawn's own grunt as he tackled the would-be murderer.  
  
The two of them went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Shawn managed to wrestle his way to the top of the pile, but then Xavier managed to get a leg over his back and flipped him. Shawn's head connected solidly with the hard ground, and then everything faded away.  
  
He wasn't sure quite how long it had been before he could hear a soft voice drifting to his ears. Shawn groaned and blinked his eyes open, finding himself staring up into Jules's face.  
  
"Heyyy, Jules," Shawn grinned lazily. "When did you get here?"  
  
"Just now," she said worriedly. "Are you okay?"  
  
Nodding slowly, Shawn rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. How long was I out?"  
  
"Not long," she shook her head.  
  
Shawn glanced around, noticing that Xavier was now gone. "Where's—?"  
  
"Xavier?" Jules finished. "The guards escorted him out already. We were just down the hall when you jumped him, so it didn't take long for us to get in here. Good thing for you," she added, "because who knows what he would have done otherwise. Shawn, that was foolish!" she chided.  
  
"But hot, right?" Shawn asked.  
  
Jules shook her head in amusement. "Yeah, sure. Now lie still; the medics are on the way."  
  
"I'm fine," Shawn insisted, waving her off. He went to push to his feet, then made a face. "Ow!" he put a hand to his head, wincing as he felt the goose egg already rising there. Before he could complain any further, though, a thought occurred to him and he sat up—a little too fast, he realized as his surroundings swam around him.  
  
Jules put a hand on his arm. "Are you sure?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah," Shawn shook his head carefully to clear it. "We gotta go save Gus!" he insisted, trying to push to his feet.  
  
Jules put a hand on his chest. "We got him already; your clue about Drimmer was a good one. He told us where to find you, and it looks like we got here just in time." She surveyed him up and down in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Oh, I'm just great, thank you for asking," Dale called from across the room. "Not like someone just tried to have me  _killed_  or anything."  
  
Smirking at the expression on his girlfriend's face, Shawn held out a hand and let her help him to his feet. "Come on, Jules," he said as soon as he was standing, albeit just a little unsteadily. "A pineapple smoothie would make me feel all the way better." He glanced over at Dale, then back to Jules. "Let's bomb this creamsicle stand!"  
  
"That's not how it goes, Shawn."  
  
"I've heard it both ways!"


End file.
